


001: You’re Really Soft

by stalker_san



Series: 101 Fluffy Prompts [1]
Category: South Park
Genre: M/M, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-19 03:39:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5952337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stalker_san/pseuds/stalker_san
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To Phillip this was just another night with a demon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	001: You’re Really Soft

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own South Park or any of its characters. This just a simple writing exercise for fun. Just a series of one-shot prompts to help me get back into writing. Most of it will be DIP. If you'd like other OTPs you can surely request them. :)
> 
> Please excuse me for being so damned rusty.

When Phillip 'Pip' Pirrup awoke in the middle of the night he did not expect to be gasping for breath. The blonde was sweating profusely. Golden tendrils slick and greasy, stuck to his reddening face. What alarmed Phillip the most was not the unnerving amount of heat in his usually cold apartment but rather the arm wrapped tightly around his neck and the legs tangled in his own. Pip couldn't yell or scream with the pressure on his throat. Nor could he move his long legs in order to throw off his attacker. Instead, Pip threw his arm back and smacked the burning body behind him. Finding a face, Pip aimed three loud slaps and all pressure was gone.

"WHAT THE FUCK?" yelled his assailant, moving across the bed and holding his stinging face.

Pip could do nothing but struggle to breathe. Airways now open, wheezing harshly and holding his throat as he sat up.

"Yo-you were at it again." Stuttered the British boy in his English accent. "Damein, 'ou might 'ave killed me this time 'round."

The anti-Christ forgot his anger for a moment and moved out of the small bedroom. A few moments later he came back with a cup of melting iced water. "Drink it before it starts to get hot." He said handing over the cup to Pip who calmed down and was now downing the water.

Pip removed his night shirt, wiping his damp forehead and neck. "You're home late." the tone wasn't accusing but Damien felt the need to explain anyways.

"Yeah, I had to go to Russia for a bit to tie up some loose ends. By the way we should move to the Caribbean in the next few years. The U.S. might not be as safe then." Damien replied. He then watched as Pip threw his shirt into a clothes bin by the door. "Sorry I keep choking you out."

"Please don't say you're starting 'nother World War?" Pip was now removing his pajama bottoms and threw them across the room as well. The blonde sat on his bed in underwear only eyeing the Anti-Christ.

The heat in the tiny room was almost unbearable. Sweat cascaded down Pip's temple and collected on a thin eyebrow. The British boy wiped it away with the back of his hand. Blue eyes landing on the small clock facing bed-side. It was still dark out, no cars out on the streets. Not even the drunken students could be heard traveling the night. The apartment windows let in very little light, as his bedroom was facing a brick wall of another building. Pip's only light source being Damien's glowing red eyes.

"No harm done, dear." Pip smiled. He reached for a hair tie on the dresser next to his bed only to be stopped by Damien's large hand.

"Leave it.” He eyed the British boy hungrily. Sweat still coated smooth, pale skin. Yellow shoulder-length hair frizzy from humidity, parted to the side, and wild compared to its normal combed-out state.

Damien savored the natural form of Pip. He was the only being to see the pristine British boy unkempt and divine. Phillip Pirrup always needed to be neat and presentable outside of his small apartment in Colorado. Where Damien worked all over the world to promote disaster and devastation; Pip worked in the small town of South Park to help the "needy".

The Dark Prince didn't need to keep appearances often. His own hair was black and thick, growing just to cover his nape. Side-burns growing wild and thick as his own eyebrows. Thorn recently shaved but his stubble started to grow again. As uncaring as he seemed about his looks, Damien did have pride in is rugged looks. He polished up nicely and used them in certain moments to persuade sinners.

He was quite the opposite compared to his lover, dark and evil. Pip was the smaller of the two, although of average height he was thin and built like a runner. He always brushed his hair before the day started, washed his face, ironed his clothes, and dressed up in dress shirts. Never had anyone seen Pip with frazzled hair, sans his clothing, and slouching of all things.

Seeing the obnoxiously nice young man so disheveled and vulnerable was one of Damien's pastimes. That and corrupting world leaders. His favored recreational activity included a lot of messy, defenseless Pip.

"Right-o! Back to bed then?" Pip broke Damien's chain of thought as he was pulled by the younger male. Damien landed on top of Pip and immediately curled up against him. His hands moved in the darkness caressing Pip's even skin. Damien heard Pip sigh in content against the anti-Christ. His breathing evening out.

"Damien…" Pip murmured softly, just as he was soon to begin dreaming. "Why do you always do this?"

Damien was silent, thinking of the right words to say. Lucifer's spawn kissed Pip's exposed neck and continued to caress him. He buried his nose in soft blonde hair not caring that his presence tended to overheat the smaller male at times. Damien held Pip tightly, red eyes gleaming in the dark.

"It's because you're so soft."


End file.
